"Gee whiz! Now, we're up against it, Mister. We'll be all night
gettin' Central again."

"Be patient, Cassius. Start all over again. Ask for the morgue this
time. That will make her realize the grave danger you are in."

"Say, I wish you'd put that gun in your pocket. It makes the goose
flesh creep out all over me. I'm not going to try to get away. Give
you my word of honor I ain't. You seem to have some sort of idea
that I don't want to be arrested."

"I confess I had some such idea, Cassius."

"Well, I don't mind it a bit. Fact is, I've been doin' my best to
get nabbed for the last three months."

"You have?"

"Sure. The trouble is with the police. They somehow seem to overlook
me, no matter how open I am about it. I suppose I've committed
twenty burglaries in the past three months and I'll be cussed if I
can make 'em understand. Take to-night, for instance. I clumb up
that fire escape,--this is the third floor, ain't it?--I clumb up
here with a big electric street light shinin' square on my back,
--why, darn the luck, I had to turn my back on it 'cause the light
hurt my eyes,--and there were two cops standin' right down below
here talkin' about the crime wave bein' all bunk, both of 'em
arguin' that the best proof that there ain't no crime wave is the
fact that the jails are only half full, showin' that the city is